CHAPTER I.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2122, 13 February 1886, Page 2 (Supplement)

CHAPTER I.

It is evening mid springtime in one of Kngland's lo\eliest counties. As far an "•■•tho-eye-can reach extend rich pastures and imditlatintf mendowland, broken by lined of hcdguiows ; and hounding the hori//)u rhus a chain of hills, blue in the .w-flistarme The eye is caught here and there by a gleam of silver from the noble river which flows majestically through this fair land to its crave in the Northern Ocean, making one think (as rivers always -, do), of life and its vicissitudes and ' changes. Some such thoughts were ,* vaguely passing through the mind of a i man, who, bearing in drew, appearance, and the appointments of the animal apon which lie rode, every token of ' boing one of tho world's favoured few, yet looked dissatisfied, and as if life held little of interest for him. The face was handsome with its clearly cut features, dark eys, and fair drooping moustache - t handsome enough to win love from many a woman, and to steal away her heart from her own keeping. The owner was yonng, strong, and wealthy, but a name- * less air of HstTesaneM and ennui threw it* shade over its countenance, and the mouth under the long moustache was ' weak and undecided, and gave fair index to his character. The lane down which he was riding wot bright with spring flowers, but the ' ground was very uneven and broken, and snddenly without any warning, and owiug, perhaps, principally to the cares lessness of the rider, his horse stumbled, ' tried in void to recover himself, and ' I finally fell headlong down, crushing his master's foot beneath him. Thus rudely aroused from his musings, Claud Morton struggled to free himself, and after a few efforts succeeded. The horse rising to >^lifr?ett,< stood trembling and panting, and although faint with pain, Claud stroked and patted him, and tried to mount again. But his crushed and bruised foot caused him such agony that he was obliged to give up the attempt, 1 and to sit down and rest at the foot of the hedge. " A nice position this for Captain Morton ! I wish I " But what the captain wished will never be known in this world, for a deadly sickness overpowered him, the soa seemed - to roar in his ears, his sight failed, and, ' for the first time in his life, he sank back in a dead faint. When, after an interval of fully half an hour, he opened his eyes it was to see bending over him a lovely girlUu fa.cc, palo now from anxiety and fear. "Where am I?" and he made an effort to riso. "Oh, 'do lie quiet, please! I thought yon were dead, it seemed such a long time since I found you lying here !" Making a fresh trial, Claud succeeded in rising himself Upon his elbow, and 1 looked inquiringly at his companion. "I was coming down the lane," said ■ ahe, in answer to his look, " and I saw your horse, and wondered whnt brought him there. Then I saw you, and I have • been trying to recover you ever since." "And will yon tell me who is the young lady whom I have to thank for such kindness ?" "My naon is Elsie Miller, and I live at the farmhouse which you can see through the trees. lam going there now to get help for you ; I shall soon be back again." Before she could put her intention into action, Claud caught her hand, and looking earnestly into her face said softly— " You are very good to me." The girl blushed, and pulling her hand gently away, stood watehiug him for a minute, and then walked swiftly down the lane, turned into an opening in the hedge, and was soon out of sight. Iv ail incredibly short space of time slio appeared again, followed by three men. The first of these bore the stamp of "English farmer," and was about < fifty y«ars of age, hale and hearty in appearance. His ruddy, honest face wore an expression of real concern as he approached Claud and asked a few '' questions as to the nature and extent of his injuries. The two others were evidently farm labourers fresh from the plough, rough, but kindly, and ready to render every assistance in their power to the unfortunate gentleman. By their help he was raised to his feet, and leaning heavily as they supported him on either side, managed at the expense of pain which brought the cold drops to his brow, to hobble towards the farm. ' Elsie went on in advance, and when they arrived at the farmhouse, was waiting with Mrs Ruthven, the farmer's wife, at the door to receve them. The latter at once came forward to offer help and assistance, and led the way into their best room, a charming old apartment with oak panels and ceiling, furniture covered with fresh, dianty chintz, and a fragrant smell of lavender and port pourri scenting the air. Claud sank exhausted upon a large, roomy couch, and one of the men was despatched, in hot haste, for the doctor. Bringing a glass of her ' home-made wine., Mrs Ruthven insisted that CUud should drink it, and moved about the room in a quet, motherly fashion, settling his pillows, and shading bis eyes from the setting sun in a way whicn made him feel at home at once. On the doctor's arrival, he pronouueed the foot to be rather severly bruised, but ssid that, after a day or two's rest, Claud would be able to ride home again, a distance, as the young officer informed him, of about twenty miles. With warm-hearted-hospitality, Mrs Ruthven begged of Clarid to remain in the farmhouse as long as he felt inclined, and even offered to send a man with letters and explanations t6 'Lightott, the residence of Sir George Morton, hisfather. Claud accepted both offers with 1 many expressions of gratitude, and 'the messenger was sent away as soon as possible. Left to himself to discuss a meal, daintily served, and in which the whitest of bread, and sweetest of butter and honey played an important part, with delicate slices of ham and fresh eggs, his thoughts ran upon the afternoon's adventure. " Suppose her ladyship could see me now ! Better not suppose anything of the kind, for she would go into hysterics over me most likely, and declare that 'she always knew I should break my neck some day !' Precious glad she is not here though ! Bah ! f love the girl well enough, but her fussing is more than any fellow could stand. I won't have it when we are married, upon my conscience. August is coming near too. Well, I suppose we shall settle down soon enough into a commonplace couple," and he smilad rather bitterly. "Denise is not the giri to spur her husband on as far as intellectual matters are concerned. Well, she is pretty enough, and rich enough, and of course well bred, and what more ought a man to want' And she is certainly very fond ot me.'A smile broke over his lip*, and his face softened, as he remembered the part, ing words of a Lady Denise Carisbroke, tho only daughter of the Earl of Oiartou, and his affianced wife. ' ' Voices broke upon his reverie, and lookingont ofjthe window, beside which his couolPlras *placed7*he saw, Elsie Miller and a tall, vigorous young man walking down the path of the oldfashioned garden. How pretty the little " girl looked, in her simple white dress, -with' a bunch' of delicate pink roses in her belt ! Her head was bare, save for the wealth of golden hair which formed a coronet of massive braids around it ; her eyes, of the blue of the forget-me-not, look/ed up at her companion from under ler long, dark lashes, and the exquisite complexion and rosy month, the small , bands and feet, and the slender, graceful figure might have belonged to any . ranlt or station. She seemed very young, hardly ' more . than seventeen, and as sweet and shy as a w : ood violet or primrose. The man at her side was strongly and compactly bm'lfc, and his frame that

of a young Hercules. His face was plain, but redeemed l>y a pair of large, dark grey qyes* which teemed to look into the v^ry heart.of those upon whom he bent hfs gaze. Curious, fathomless cyei— but very ioft \vn> their oxpressiou, .as he ldokttl at Klsie, ajwl bent nltehtly to speak toller.' For the rest, his featuies were marked and well cut, with a suspicion of sternness about the lines of tlio firm, decided moil tli. Claud watdicd them and smiled. '•The old, old story, I suppose. What a lovely face she lias ! Denise could not hold a candle to her. And she is not a dollish beauty in spite of her pink and white completion and golden-hair ; there is character in her face too. 1 should like to have a talk with her, and see of what stuff she is made." Raising himself slightly, he leant his elbow upon the window-sill, and as the pair approached, said quietly, " Good evening, Miss Miller " The girl started, smiled, and came forward, and her companion raised his hat, and walked away down the garden. "I hope you feel bettor," she said. " Auntie says that yon will be quite well again in a day or two." " Thank you, yes. But how am I to show my gratitude to you for your kindness to a wounded soldier?" " Please do not try. I did not do anything worthy of thanks." 41 Pardon me, but I think differently. Will you tell me, Miss Elsie, if it is Mrs Ruthven whom you refer to as your aunt ?" "Yet. My father and mother died when I was only five years old, and I have lived here with Uncle md Aunt ever since. They are like parents to me.". "And the yoong man who vras talking to you ?" That is my cousin Hugh, Mr Ruthven's only son. But now may I ask yon a question ? Are you really a soldier ?" : " Really and truly, Miss Elsie." " Oh, then, please tell me about your life in the army. If I were only a man I would be a soldier." " I do not think you wonld like it all. A soldier's life is very rough sometimes, and theu there is a chance of being sent to 'some outlandish place for yean. But if war should break out, I hope our regiment will be one of the first sent out," and the young soldier's eyes sparkled and his eyes sparkled and his cheeks gtowed at the thought. Then with gentle deference and courtesy in word and manner, ho told her of life in the held, and the garrison, 1 pathetic incidents, and Elsie thought that she had never seen anyone so handsome, so brave, or so manly. She com- [ pared him with her cousin (greatly to poor Hugh's disadvantage), and thought him Uko one of those knights of old, of whom she read in her favourite books ; surely Sir Galahad, the stainless knight, had not been nobler or purer than this young hero. So they talked until the stars began to show themselves, and the crescent moon hung, a silver bow, above the dark tree tops, and then Elsie, with a start of recollection, said good-night, and vanished.